


Holy Smoke

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Large Cock, Nuns, Oral Sex, Priest Kink, Smutt, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, smutt and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Eileen asks Sam to give her hand on a hunt involving a haunted church.





	Holy Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Kink Bingo 2019, this fills the Saileen Square.

 

The vibration of her phone in her pocket wrenched Eileen from her thoughts. So entrenched in the depths of mind, the interruption startled her, the pen her hand skittering across the table. With an exasperated sigh, she withdrew the device from her pocket and flipped her thumb across the screen. There she found a text message, and then she looked to the door, staring a moment before leaving the table. She crossed the room and peaked through the blinds, ever vigilant, but she recognized the tall figure immediately. When she opened the door, Sam Winchester filled the frame, sun radiating around his head in a golden arch. For a breath, she stood still as stone, unable to think of anything besides him.

“Eileen? You okay?”

The heat of his massive hand enveloped her shoulder, and a dizzying rush gathered her wits. With a shake of her head, Eileen spoke. “Yeah, I… thanks for meeting me on such late notice.”

Sam stooped through the low frame of the motel door as Eileen stepped aside. “No problem. You know you can call us any time.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“He’s ah… preoccupied back at the bunker,” Sam said as he pointed at one of the beds. Eileen nodded, and he set his bag on it. “I bought a Nintendo Switch and Zelda. He hasn’t come out of his room in three days.”

“A video game? Really?” Eileen wondered aloud. “I didn’t realize Dean was such a nerd.”

“A certain kind of nerd, yeah,” Sam agreed. “Anyway, what’s got you so stumped?”

Eileen signed an obscene gesture as she slumped at her laptop, and Sam laughed as he joined her. “It’s some sort of haunting, but I keep flipping between poltergeist and vengeful spirit.”

“You mentioned a church, right,” Sam asked, intrigued. “Any patterns?”

Eileen shrugged as she turned her laptop to him with several files open. He scanned the screen, eyes flicking back and forth, illuminated so that she noted his unique pattern of hazel. A pale greyish blue that transformed into a golden green near the bridge of his nose, Eileen found herself mesmerized as he read.

Several seconds passed before she realized his lips had been moving. “Sorry,” she interrupted. “Could you… start over? I wasn’t…” she paused, then pointed to her own lips.

Sam blushed a shade of pink she had never seen before as he cleared his throat and looked back to the laptop. “Several deaths of congregation members, but no ectoplasm? I’m gonna go with vengeful spirit.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Eileen said, “But I haven’t found anyone in the congregation with a shady past. None of the people that died were bad, in fact, they were all great philanthropists. Gave to charity, funded scholarships. Lots of rich people doing something good with their money for once.”

“Have you talked to any of the clergy yet?” Sam asked.

Eileen shook her head with a half-hearted shrug. “None of them are willing to talk about the deceased or the church itself.”

A coy smirk crooked his lips, and Eileen forced herself to look away, anywhere but his face lest she give herself up. “I have an idea. Did you meet any of them in person yet?”

“No, just emails,” she said. “I was trying to set up a meeting.”

Without warning, Sam stood from the table and crossed the room for his bag. “I think I have a way in without a meeting,” he said as he opened his bag. From it he withdrew a priest’s cassock and held it aloft. “What do you think?”

“Do you want to go in alone?” Eileen asked.

“Oh, no,” Sam replied as he dug back into his bag. “You’re a…” he stuttered as his eyes blanked, glassy and unseeing a spot at which he stared on the bed. “A six?”

Eileen cocked a brow at that. “On a scale of one to ten, I would put myself at an eleven, but that’s just my opinion.”

Despite the furious blush in his cheeks, Sam laughed. “I meant your ah… your dress size. I guessed. Picked this up on the way out,” he said as he pulled a nun’s habit from his bag. When Eileen remained in her seat and stared, Sam’s face fell. “This is weird,” he said as he looked to the disguise. “I’m sorry, we can try another way.”

“No, it’s a great idea,” Eileen said as she stood. She crossed the room to stand next to him, then picked up the habit. “Wish I would have thought of it before. Then I might not have needed to call you.”

Sam’s frown etched deeper across his lips. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, I… I didn’t mean it like that,” Eileen stuttered. “You and Dean are usually so busy, I worry I’m interrupting something when I call.”

Sam touched her shoulder again, and it took all of Eileen’s willpower not to touch him in response. “Eileen, if we were busy, I’d have told you. But we weren’t. For once, the world’s not ending. Or on the verge of ending. Or something ridiculous like that. And I mean it, it’s great to see you again, I missed you.”

Eileen reared back at that. “I… I missed you, too,” she said as she looked at the habit. “Anyway,” she said with a breath, “we should head over to the church right away.”

Sam agreed with a nod and headed for the bathroom with his disguise. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He shut the door behind him, but not before he looked over his shoulder once more with a quick smile before it closed.

Eileen sat on the bed, waiting, alone with her thoughts. It had been months since they had last talked, longer since they had met in person. Her feelings had waned in that time apart. Distance, in her case, had not made the heart fonder. If anything, it had numbed her. But there in her motel room, with Sam only a few feet away, it all came back in a flood of emotions. Emotions she had intentionally locked away. Hunters could not afford the comforts civilians enjoyed. And yet…

Sam exited the bathroom door donned in a black shirt with its sectioned collar and a full cassock that draped to his feet. Eileen stared, wide-eyed and mouth agape, every coherent thought vanished once more. She thanked whatever gods existed that Sam paid her no mind. He headed straight for his bag, folded his clothes, and carefully placed them on the bed.

When he finally looked at her, he reared back in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“Uh…” Eileen started with a shake of her head, “I… think so.”

“You’ve been acting a little strange,” he said with a furrowed brow. “You sure you’re okay?”

She stood from the bed and rushed to the bathroom. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

With the door shut behind her, Eileen dropped the nun’s habit on the counter and hunched over the sink. A deep breath filled her lungs but failed to clear her head. She stared at the mirror, her emotions so obvious on her rosy cheeks, nose, and ears. Damn him. Damn him and his hair and his compassion. She was being ridiculous, acting like a moonstruck teenager. With a scoff, Eileen pushed back from the sink and stood, spine rigid as steel. She could do this. She was a professional. A hunter. And hunters ignored the sort of distractions she had.

She snatched the disguise from the counter and changed. Nothing would stop her from finishing this hunt. Not even Sam Winchester’s pretty face.

With the veil in place, she exited the bathroom and pointedly ignored Sam. She dumped her pile of clothes on her bed, then reached for a pocket she no longer had, then remembered her phone lay on the table next to her laptop.

Next to Sam.

When their gazes locked, Sam stared as his lips parted and his eyes widened. Eileen forced herself to look elsewhere, anywhere but at him as she rushed to the table and snatched up her phone. But before she moved an inch from the table, the delicate touch of Sam’s fingers—Christ, those long, nimble fingers—touched the back of her hand, and she froze.

“Eileen,” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper. “Talk to me. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

She should have never called him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“We can’t what?” Sam insisted. When her lips moved, wordless, a knowing light shown in his eyes as he reared back from her with a sideways glare. “Are you trying to tell me… what I think you’re trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know!” Eileen barked. She couldn’t tell him the truth, the way she felt. God, if he ever found out, they would get far too attached to one another and then…

What? Would it be so bad? Would it really be such a terrible risk? Sam and Dean were the best hunters in the business. And Eileen wasn’t far behind them. Why couldn’t they handle it?

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked.

Eileen hesitated a beat before she spoke. “Nothing.”

The warmth of his fingers slipped into her palm as Sam replied. “Please don’t lie to me.”

How did he do that? Was she that obvious? “I’m… I don’t know what to do, Sam. I thought…” she faltered on the brink of admitting the truth as she looked him in the eye. There in his hazel gaze she found that for which she searched and submitted to her relief.

Eileen moved faster than lightning. She grasped his head, hair so soft beneath her fingers, then planted her lips upon his for a deep, insistent kiss. In that liminal moment, Sam melted into her, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her in close as he returned her kiss. But then the grasp of his massive hands stung her backside as he picked her up and carried her to his bed. Once there, Eileen braced herself for them to fall to the bed together, only for the floor to return beneath her feet. Sam parted from her with an elongated sigh as his eyes fluttered open, then found hers. “How long?”

“About two years,” Eileen admitted as she pried at a button on his shirt. “You?”

“Four.”

Her jaw dropped with a gasp. “Since the banshee?”

Sam’s too pretty smile spread across his lips. “I love that you mark the passage of time by the hunt you were on,” he said as he towered over her. “I love your wit. Your sarcasm. Your strength. Your courage. Eileen, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Had there been signs? Or was Sam much better at hiding his feelings? Those questions ceased to matter the longer he held her, bodies flush. “I love this,” she said as she fingered his priest’s collar.

He smoothed the fabric of her nun’s veil as the other hand slipped to the small of her back. “Oh, really? Do you have a thing for priests?”

“No,” she laughed, “I have a thing for broad-shouldered men pretending to be priests. Sacrilege and all that.”

“Oh, I see,” Sam mused as he hiked up his cossack and knelt on the mattress. With his delectably imposing figure encroaching on her, Eileen eased back into his arms, and he lay her upon the bed. “You find the perversion of it…”

“Arousing,” she finished for him as her knees parted for his hips. The weight of him settled between her thighs, his stiff cock so hard against her center she felt it through all the fabric that separated them. “Forgive me, Father?”

The heat of his breath on her ear as he moaned raced gooseflesh along her arms. “Confess to me, Sister Eileen.” His lips dragged a trail of kisses along her neck to her collar. “What is it that troubles you?”

Nimble fingers teased at the sensitive skin of her thighs as Sam lifted her skirts, and Eileen tore apart the fastenings of his pants beneath his cossack. “It’s been years since my last confession,” she gasped as his fingers brushed her hips. “I’ve had impure thoughts.”

“Yes, tell me more,” Sam moaned into her neck, his lips plying her pebbled skin. Eileen opened her mouth to reply, but his insistent touch hooked into the hips of her underwear and drew them down to her knees. The cool air of the motel room on her bare flesh, already so wet, sent a shiver along her spine, and Sam hummed a pleased sigh at that. “You must confess, Sister,” he whispered as his massive hands smoothed along her inner thighs.

If Eileen could string more than three words together, she would have. She desperately wanted to, wanted to tell him all the lewd thoughts she’d had of him, of them together over the years. But as his hands neared the apex of her thighs, any coherent thought she might have had fled. Her hands fell from his pants as his fingers parted her sopping flesh, then slid inside.

“Holy shit, Sam.”

That earned her a chastising quirk of his brow. “Sister Eileen, I hardly think that is appropriate language,” Sam scolded as he stroked her core. “Confess or I’ll stop.”

There were a million things to which she wanted to confess. “I’ve imagined you—us—together. In impure ways,” Eileen stuttered, breathless. “Your head between my legs.”

Sam slipped from the bed and knelt. “Like this?” he asked as he bowed, his soft hair and rough stubble brushing along her thighs.

Eileen reached for him, fingers stretched to grasp his hair. The warmth of his breath drifted along her sex as he neared, his tongue reaching. Long and firm, it parted her lips and pressed to her clit as his mouth sealed with a hard suck. As his fingers steadily worked her flesh and his tongue drew incessant circles, she knew heaven had nothing on the way Sam ate pussy.

A lascivious pop broke her concentration, her hips stuttering to a stop as Sam parted from her. When she looked him in the eye, he said, “I asked you a question, Sister Eileen.”

“Oh,” she breathed, voice dripping with feigned embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Father,” she continued, “but yes! I’ve imagined you there, just like that. Your face buried between my thighs as you devour me.”

Sam laughed at that, an honestly embarrassed smile dimpling his rosy cheeks. “Is there anything else you need to confess, Sister?”

God, what next? Return what he so willingly gave? The mere thought of sucking Sam’s cock spun the room with dizzying arousal. But she wanted it, wanted that more than what might follow. “I’ve wondered what you taste like.”

A greedy grin parted his lips as Sam straightened. “Would you like to find out?” he asked as he smoothed the flat of his hand over the bulge of his cock .

Eileen gaped once more, watching, unable to peel her eyes away as Sam teased himself with his massive hand, stroking his length from head to base. The thin fabric of his underwear left little to the imagination, his thick shaft and swollen head twitching with want. “Forgive me, Father, but I would,” she moaned as she pried at the waist of his pants, “please, give me penance so that I may be cleansed of my sin.”

A moan so pathetic slipped from Sam's lips, Eileen worried he might have come untouched. As delightful a thought it might be, she hoped she was wrong. Sam proved his resilience when he hooked his thumbs into his pants and pulled. The heavy weight of his stiffened cock fell free with a hard flex, and Sam gritted his teeth behind his grin. When his calloused hand cupped her cheek, he said, “You will know salvation through me, Sister Eileen. With our divine pleasure, we will be absolved.” His fingers slipped beneath her veil and removed it as the other hand gripped the base of his shaft. “Now suck my cock.”

From polite gentleman to master of the deviant, Sam Winchester could do it all. With a perfectly firm touch, he pressed at the back of her head and Eileen parted her lips. A spark of adrenaline charged through her entire body as the sharp taste of salt met her tongue, the skin of his cock softer than sin. As the tip passed her lips, she sealed her mouth around his girth and looked up to him. Her stared at her, eyes wide and reverent, glinting with anxious anticipation. Each inch slipped into her mouth until her nose meet his pelvis and a reflex withdrew him. He pressed at the back of her head once more, and Eileen obliged. When he pressed a third time, Eileen grabbed his wrists and restrained him, gripped as tight as she could.

If Sam wanted to be free of her grasp, he had plenty of those gorgeous muscles to accomplish such a task. But when he struggled against her grip, she knew he played at his helplessness. “Sister,” he breathed, “what are you doing? You're not supposed to enjoy this, it is your penance!”

Eileen hummed a pleased moan that elicited a bought of delirious laughter from Sam. When she withdrew him from her mouth, she released his wrist to stroke his length. “Oh, but I do, Father Sam, I do enjoy my penance, for it comes from you and you give it to me so willingly,” she simpered. “You give your body to me and I give mine to you, to use however you see fit.”

A deep growl rent the air as Sam grasped her hair and wrenched her head back. “Yes, Sister, I give to you so that you may know innocence once more,” he started, “but until we are both finished, you will respect this cloth. Now, you will do as I have ordered until I am satisfied. Suck my cock.”

Not a word of protest sounded from her open mouth. The swollen tip of his cock slid to the back of her throat in one smooth roll of Sam’s hips as he held her still, then he thrust. Eileen closed her eyes as her cheeks hollowed with each stroke and her tongue swirled around his cock. Decadent moans fell from Sam’s lips, jaw slackened and broad chest heaving as he gasped for breath. The sight of him towering above her as he used her, used her mouth for his pleasure rushed endless waves of arousal to her cunt, already so wet with want.

In a sudden rush of limbs and fluids, Sam snapped his hips back and withdrew from her mouth, only to shove her back on the bed. Massive arms lifted her legs and tore aside her skirts to reveal her sex to him again, though this time he squared his hips between her thighs with his cock in one hand. “I need to feel you, Eileen. I need to be inside you.”

The wild glare of lust in Sam’s hazel shown so bright, Eileen hardly recognized him. But when his sheepish smile dimpled his cheeks, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him to her. “Fuck me, Sam.”

Another deep growl rumbled in his chest as Sam pressed the tip of his cock to her cunt, then slipped inside with ease. That first stroke, ever so full and spread so wide with his thick girth, elicited a moan so sinful, Eileen’s cheeks stung. She hardly thought herself capable of such sounds, but then, there she lay with Sam Winchester, the man after which she had pined for years, a fantasy come true. And then the second stroke obliterated any coherent thought left in her lust addled mind.

The steady rhythm of Sam’s hips set their pace, rolling in time with hers. Long strings of nonsense fell from their lips, praise and curses and blasphemes alike. Despite Sam’s typical behavior—gentle touches, hunched shoulders, soft gazes—in bed he held himself tall, allowed himself the space to use some of that glorious strength, and glared with unbridled lust. Eileen had never seen a look of such pure pleasure on his face before, so beautiful she nearly wept.

When she rose from the bed, Eileen squawked in surprise, so lost in the moment she had not felt Sam wrap his arms around her. He picked her up by the ass and carried her to the dresser where a tall mirror sat. “I thought you might want see us,” Sam said with a coy smirk. “You looked so fucking hot on the bed…”

“Two kinks in one go, huh?” Eileen jested.

Bless his heart, but Sam still blushed, even in the middle of fucking a woman in a nun’s habit. “I… may have more.”

Eileen rolled her hips as a reminder of where he was. Sam gasped at the sudden friction, his own hips responding in kind. “I hope there’s leather involved in a few.”

“Fuck, Eileen, there’s so much leather…” he moaned into her neck as he returned to his pace, hips thrusting hard and fast.

The mere thought of Sam and leather drove Eileen wild with want, another long moan falling from her parted lips. She wanted to know more, to know if Sam preferred to wield or wear his weather. But the thought to ask fled as fast as it came. Sam’s roaming hands slipped beneath her skirts and grasped her attention as they searched. The bite of his fingernails stung her hip as he grabbed her with one hand, and the other returned to her sex to rub hard and fast circles on her clit. Within too few minutes, Eileen felt the familiar rush of her arousal as it raced to its end, desperately seeking release. Each thrust of Sam’s hips, his thick cock stroking her cunt, inched her closer to that climax.

When the bite of his nails faded, Eileen opened her eyes to find Sam wearing lust's mask, his delirious smile crooked on his lips. His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulled her tight into his embrace, and she clamored for leverage across his broad shoulders. Ropes of corded muscle rolled beneath her hands as she clung to him, his solid mass an anchor to reality, to truth.

“Eileen, talk to me…” Sam breathed. “Tell me how you feel.”

“It's… I can hardly think. God, you feel so good inside me,” Eileen moaned as she looked in the mirror. “You even look good inside me.”

His eyes followed her, and Sam moaned in kind. “I do, don't I?” he said as he slowed and withdrew in a long, slow stroke. “Oh, Sister Eileen, look at your pussy on my cock. Look at how you take me in, hug me, envelope me. So hot and wet.” A smooth, agonizingly slow roll of his hips slipped his length inside her, inch by inch, as he continued to rub her clit, and they moaned together. “You should be ashamed of yourself, betraying your vows.”

“I am, Father Sam. Please,” Eileen begged as Sam picked up speed once more. “Forgive me, I'll do anything for absolution, anything you want.”

Sam growled as his lips pressed to hers for a hungry kiss, then trailed to her ear. Smothered by his massive frame, Eileen could hardly breathe, but she didn't care, for Sam spoke. “Come with me, Sister Eileen. Come on my cock as I fill you with my seed, I'm so close.”

“Yes!” she cried, her long moan punctuated by his thrusting hips. “Fuck me, Sam, come for me, I want to feel you come inside me.”

Between her thighs, that familiar sensation of tightly bound warmth unraveled as hard and heavy flexes of Sam's cock pulsed, filling her with his cum. His hips stuttered as his breath caught in his throat, and his wide hazel eyes locked with hers as she burst at the seams, her orgasm coursing though her entire body in a torrent of euphoria. As she road that rush of pleasure, Sam collapsed into her, his eyes squeezed shut and a whimper fell from his parted lips. There they breathed a moment—maybe more, Eileen couldn't be sure—until Sam righted himself. Long locks of his brown hair matted to his forehead and cheeks as sweat rolled down his neck. His priest’s collar had soaked through, and his shirt clung to his chest. When he righted a piece of her own hair, Sam laughed. “I guess we're not going anywhere looking like this.”

“Not if we don't want to offend the clergy,” Eileen amended as she looked him in the eye. “I'd suggest taking all these sweaty clothes off but I'm afraid we might not make it out of the motel then.”

Swift as a cat, Sam grasped her by the ass and lifted her. Eileen's indignant squawk turned into a curious laugh as Sam carried her to the bathroom. “We should at least get cleaned up,” he mused.

“By cleaned up you mean…”

As he set her on her feet, Sam answered her with a kiss, long and so soft, Eileen thought she might melt. When he parted from her, he glanced at the tiny shower stall behind her, then returned his gaze to hers. He remained silent, only his deviant smile giving him away. “Well? Am I not forgiven, Father Sam?”

His smile spread into the most wicked grin as he spoke.

 “You may be absolved of your sins in the eyes of the Lord, Sister Eileen, but I'm not through with you yet.”


End file.
